Disclaimer: I'M
BBBBBBBBBBBBBBAAAAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCKKKKK!!
Did y'all miss me??? (*looks
around at all the blank faces and questioning eyes* You were GONE?! Who are you again??) *pouts* Well, anyway, Midnight's Jewel
finally decided to come home, so I've started writing again! YAY! As
always, the characters that you recognize from IaHB—guess
what, they ain't mine! However, the characters that you don't
recognize—THEY ARE! I own stuff! Yahoo!!
Anyhoo, this is the sequel to Shattered
Harmonies and final part of the Broken Symphonies Trilogy. The last story to come out, and the first
part of the series, Disjointed Melodies, will, hopefully, be out sometime
before, like, October. (Give me time, I'm adjusting to college life now. Egads!) Anyway,
without further ado….
Broken Chords
Janie Waite swallowed hard,
shifting the bouquet of white roses in her right hand to her left hand. The cold, wet paper wrapped around the stems
was suppose to keep the flowers looking fresh, but for some reason, the crisp
white petals of the flowers looked faded and brown to her. Looking away from the flowers, she surveyed
the garden of stones that surrounded her.
Almost ten years....it had
been almost ten years since the last time she was here. Her father had been laid to rest among these
stones, that day, and she had never had the guts to come back to this place, so
full of death and horrible, horrible memories.
Swallowing against the bile that rose in the back of her throat, she
took a deep breath and began to make her way down the paved path that would
take her to her father's grave.
The sun pounded down on her
like a jack knife, and she quickened her pace, her footsteps echoing like
gunshots in the silent field. By the
time she reached the large oak tree her father had been buried under, her heart
was pounding so hard in her chest she thought it was going to explode. She reached up to wipe the sweat off her
brow, her hand quivering like a tightly strung bow.
Taking a deep breath and
closing her eyes, Janie steeled herself, swallowing against the bile that once
more rose in her throat. Opening her dark
brown eyes, eyes that she had inherited from her father, the young woman stood
looking at the simple headstone that marked her father's final resting
place.
So enraptured by the words
burned into the stone, the young woman didn't notice that she had company until
a second shadow fell across her father's grave. Tearing her eyes away from the
words written in the stone, Janie looked over at her guest, and the ghost of a
smile turned the corner of her lips up.
She should have known that she would be here.
"Aunt Caitie." Janie said by way of greeting, turning to the
smaller woman and wrapping her arms around her in a tight hug.
"Hey,
bright eyes." The older woman whispered back into Janie's
shoulder rubbing the girl's back. Caitie
had been her father's best friend since they had been very young--Janie had
even been named after her, Jane Caitlin Waite.
Even after her father's
death, Caitie Roth had played an important part in Janie's life. Unlike her workaholic mother, Caitie had
always had time for the girl, telling her stories, teaching her to ride a bike,
patching up skinned knees and elbows.
The older woman had even been the one to take Janie to buy her first bra
and explained the other not as joyful aspect of being a woman.
It hadn't ever struck Janie
as odd until she was almost fourteen.
She finally worked up the nerve to ask Caitie why she always treated her
more like her daughter then her best friend's daughter. Caitie had just looked away, before forcing a
slightly wavering smile and
abruptly changing the subject.
Janie had yet gotten up the nerve to ask again.
The two women stood in front
of Jamie Waite's grave for a long second after greeting one another, just
allowing the silence of the field of stone to sink in around them. After a moment, Janie realized that she was
holding tightly to Caitie's hand, and she let her lips turn up slightly,
looking over at the other woman.
"How'd you know that I was
here?" Janie asked softly, her eye's dancing back to her father's gaze
for an instant, before refocusing on Caitie.
"Just a
feeling." Caitie allowed, the hint of a smile dancing
in her eyes.
"I'm glad you're here." Janie admitted, truthfully. "I...I'm not sure I could have done this on
my own."
"Why didn't you bring your
mother with you?"
Janie was quiet for a moment,
trying to come up with an answer for her godmother's question. "I guess...I
guess I just needed someone that was in the same boat as I was."
"Some one that hadn't quite
come to grips with his...leaving...either?"
Caitie couldn't bring herself to say "his death".
"Yeah." Janie
whispered, stepping closer to the woman she had known
all her life.
"I understand." Caitie whispered,
unwinding her fingers from Janie's tight grip and holding her arm open to
her. With the ease of long practice,
Janie slipped under the woman's offered arm, basking in the glow of maternal
love and peace she always found whenever Caitie was near.
For another long moment,
neither woman spoke, just taking comfort in the knowledge that they were no
longer alone.
"Caitie?" Janie finally
asked, peering up at her godmother. "Can
I ask you a question?"
"Of course." Caitie
whispered, stroking the girl's black hair with a small hand.
"Why...why haven't you...ya know...let him go yet?"
Janie couldn't believe that she had been bold enough to ask that. "I mean...even Mom..."
Caitie didn't say anything
for the longest time, and Janie thought she was going to pull another rapid
change on her. However, Caitie surprised
her by sighing in defeat, and gesturing toward the stone bench that sat a few
feet away.
"Let's sit down, honey."
When the two women were
seated, Caitie took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, before beginning.
"Your father and I were best
friends, you know that. But what...what
you didn't know, and what I've never told you is...well..." The older woman sighed again and visibly
steeled herself before pressing on. "I
loved your father."
"I know that." Janie told her, slightly confused. "You just said that you were best friends."
"No, bright
eyes." Caitie shook her head, a tear making it's way down her cheek.
"I mean, I loved your father--he was...and he always will
be...the love of my life." She was
silent for a minute, giving Janie time to adjust to this startling news.
Janie reeled. Her father's best friend was in love with
him? She had always known that they were
good friends, that they cared about each other, but she had never realized the
extent of Caitie's feelings for her father.
"You...you were in love with
him?" Was all Janie could think to say.
"I am in love with
him." Was the
whispered reply.
"Oh...I..." Janie was silent for a minute, trying to pull
her swirling thoughts into order. "So...um...is
that why...you know...you sorta stayed around after he
died? Out of respect for my dad? Cause,
you know, I don't think you and Mom are on the best terms."
"Your mother and I have never
really seen eye to eye on anything."
Caitie quipped lightly, a smile flashing in her serious hazel eyes. But then she was once again somber, reaching
up to lightly stroke Janie's cheek in the motherly way that had always
convinced Janie's friend's that Caitie was the girl's real mother. "But respect for your father is only part of
the reason I stayed around."
"Then...why?"
Caitie shut her eyes, as a
tear slowly made it's way down her cheek and clung to
her chin before falling like the first drop of rain before a thunderstorm. "Because...in another world...you would have
been mine."